Abstract | By : Agent182 Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1455 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Abstract
Disclaimer: I don’t own DBZ
Chapter 1: Padded walls and equally soft jackets
He awoke. As if from a horrible dream… panting, dripping with sweat, his heart pounding… He caught his breath, feeling awkward… the sheets that rested over his body weren’t the ones he had fallen asleep on. He shifted and gazed weakly down at the white cotton sheets. His eyes wanted to slide shut again. Yet, he would not allow it.
His eyes flickered around the small room. This was not his room… His legs slid over the side of the bed and the rest of his body did the same as he slowly managed to get to his feet. His knees shook as if they had never had weight upon them. His mouth was was dry and thick with a bitter taste that he wished to be rid of, a glass of water might cure it, but he highly doubted it.
The room was still pitch black but, he could barely see the outline of the room. The only thing that seemed to be inside of it was the bed he had been sleeping upon moments earlier, beside himself of course. This caused fear to rise slightly but, he wasn’t one to be scared easily.
He took a deep breath and stepped forward, towards the wall, his hands reaching out blindly, groping for anything… they were pressed onto the wall in front of him, and he was surprised to find something soft under his palms.
He tried to think rationally but the only thing that came to his mind was that he must still be dreaming. He had to be-
A startled cry left his raw throat as he jumped back from the wall and the lights overhead flickered on. He could hear the faint buzz from the florescent light as his chest heaved and his breathing slowly leveled out. He wiped his arms across his forehead, cleaning it of the thin layer of sweat that had appeared; he hadn’t realized how hot it had suddenly gotten.
There! There it was! A voice! He hesitantly put his ear against the soft wall, listening intently for the voice again. It sounded so familiar but at the moment, his mind was so jumbled with confusion he couldn’t really put a name or face behind the voice. He stepped away from the so-called wall and awaited the other being. His shoulders and back straight, his chin tilted ever so slightly upwards towards the ceiling. Announcing that he was better than who ever walked in the room.
He was surprised as the wall slid open sideways to see something else obstructing his freedom. Glass? Or so it seemed. Something else puzzled him as he saw thick ebony hair. "Kakkarot?" He let the words tumble from his lips as his hands pressed against the glass. The man on the other side looked at him, an odd sadness in his eyes. He held a clipboard in one hand and seemed to be jotting down a few notes. The Prince said his rival’s name louder this time, but he didn’t respond again. His jaw clenched. Kakkarot wasn’t one to ignore him. He was his Prince for God’s sake!
Kakkarot just eyed the paper he wrote upon with a pencil that seemed to have been to hell and back. Vegeta hadn’t recalled seeing the other male in any other colors than mainly orange and blue, so the white coat he wore stood out greatly to him. He caught sight of the pin that was held onto the breasts of the long coat. A name imprinted across it.
Doctor Goku Son
Vegeta felt his throat get dryer than it already was if that was at all possible. What the hell was going on? His mind kept trying to process this confusion but it came to the same thought before. He must be dreaming. Nothing could be this fucked up- and Kakkarot! Kakkarot is too damn stupid to be a doctor of any sort! He’d kill himself before he let the third class examine and operate on him. But he had a feeling he wasn’t in a normal hospital. "Kakkarot, let me the hell out of here!" He brought his fist upon the glass and to his surprise it didn’t shatter under his strength.
A frown still remained on the third class’s face as he set the pencil into the front pocket of his white coat. Their eyes finally met yet there was something missing from his fellow Sayian’s eyes. That glimmer of hope, that strength, his innocence… It was all faded and seemed to be covered with a thick hard shell of dark chocolate.
What the fuck was going on?
He couldn’t figure out where he was let alone figure out what was wrong with Kakkarot. He hit the glass again, this time harder. It shook under his fist but did not waver. What the fuck? Did he want the answer? No, not really. He just wanted to wake the fuck up and right now! This time his knuckles crashed against the glass and he felt pain. That was when his eyes went wide. Pain? If he felt pain how could he be dreaming? He tried to ignore the throbbing ache at his knuckles and he hit the glass again with both fists, and kept pounding into it. His knuckles split as he felt tears of anger and frustration at the back of his eyes and he saw the blood splatter across the glass.
"Mister Begeta, please calm down." The voice on the other side was partially muffled and it was almost soothing to his ears. It was the only thing familiar to him beside his own body.
"Kakkarot- let me the hell out of here NOW!" He screamed at the other male who seemed to ignore his words. He watched as his eyes quickly shot to the right.
"I’m going to ask you again. Please calm down or you’re going to have to be restrained." He sighed heavily and watched sadly as the man with upswept hair continued to shout.
"You wish you could restrain me! I am the Prince of ALL Sayians! No one tells me what to do! Especially not some lowly third class!" His fist tightened as he tried to raise his ki- and to his shock… nothing happened. Vegeta’s mouth hung agape as he tried to figure out what was going on.
He had the facts:
The last one seemed very fitting. Nothing was in it’s place. His head was spinning and his hands were aching. He wasn’t dreaming. Oh god… he wasn’t dreaming. He felt panic rise in his chest, and it burned. Or maybe that was heartburn he didn’t know or care he just wanted out. "Kakkarot, tell me what the fuck is going on…" His cheek rested against the glass. Not in defeat, his body was tired, sore, and so much more he didn’t even want to continue to think about.
"Mister Begeta, please. There is no one named Kakkarot here." The dullness of his rival’s voice was sickening. Where was the kindness and that hint of innocence? That voice didn’t belong to Kakkarot, nor did those eyes. But it was him… some how. In this disturbing… well… whatever the hell it was it was Kakkarot. The face in front of him made his stomach turn. No… none of this is possible. He had to shatter it. Shatter the glass; then crush Kakkarot’s pale skin. Kakkarot… he still said the name. That wasn’t his name! It was as if someone had stolen his rival’s body and was prancing around in it and doing a shitty job at fooling anyone. "Mister Begeta, your daily-"
"SHUT UP! Don’t fucking call me Mister Begeta ever again! My name is Veeh-gee-tah!" He sounded out his name to the other. He hadn’t caught that his name was being said wrong until now and that angered him more. He felt like Kakkarot was mocking him, this time on purpose.
"I’ve taken note of that." There was a twist of sarcasm to his voice as he motioned for someone to open the door. Vegeta was frantic for a moment.
Should he try to escape? Should he knock them all down and run as fast as he could? Or should he wait and see what they were going to do? Maybe figure out where he is?
The running part seemed a lot more interesting to him. And a lot more sane. The door opened and two familiar people came in. People? More like aliens. The two Nameks came into the room. The small one and the much taller one. Dende and Piccolo. Vegeta felt a wave of dizziness over take him, but he wasn’t ready to give in. Never would the Sayian Prince do such a weak thing.
They grasped a hold of his arms before he even had any clue that he had fallen to his knees. He was hoisted back to his feet, not too gently to say the least.
He gasped as Kakkarot stood in front of him. A needle held between his fingers, which was something he never thought he would see. He could recall when Kakkarot saw a needle back on planet Namek and he had become a sobbing idiot and he wasn’t even going to be given the needle and Vegeta had almost wanted to shove the thing down his throat to shut him the hell up.
The grin on Kakkarot’s face was anything but calming. He felt shudders run up and down his spine, mixing with his confusion; and urging him to fall down crying like a five-year old that lost their puppy and yet, he didn’t. He bit into his lip and once again tried to fight the arms that held him. Where the hell was his strength? He tried to jerk his arms free but it seemed so futile as Kakkarot neared him, his wrist waiting yet unwilling to have some… vile chemical running through his blood stream. He didn’t know what that shit could do and he sure the hell didn’t want to know.
He felt a cry rip from his dry throat as the needle sunk into his skin. His eyes narrowed to slits as the liquid was pushed into his vein. He could hear laughter and see it in their eyes but they made no sound and that was more chilling than if they would have. His weakened body began to fall forward. He cursed himself for bein dam damn weak but could he really help it? No…
The arms did not loosen their grips as his eyes started to slide shut. He fought against it, trying to hold them open with all his strength which wasn’t much to begin with.
He caught Kakkarot’s voice above him, mentioning something about a Jacket. To protect Vegeta and others. Namely the doctors.
Jackets, padded walls, doctors… it was all hitting him, very slowly of course. His mind seemed to be shutting down as his eyes finally shut.
He was going insane. Or he was already insane.
Maybe if he fell asleep he’d wake from this nightmare, or maybe this was the sick reality…
To be continued…
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